Who Says Three's a Crowd?
by WizMonCruWil
Summary: This is my first ship of Golden Trio three-way love. It's about Harry, Ron and Hermione getting married after a rare result of magic says that their love must be honored. Some mature content, but it's not terrible. Happy reading!
1. Chapter 1: Our Own Little Family

**Chapter 1: Our Own Little Family**

Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger surveyed the carnage around them. The Battle of Hogwarts had ended at last, and Voldemort had been defeated at last…but at a terrible price. Hundreds lay dead, among them Fred Weasley and his sister, Ginny, Harry's girlfriend. Harry was heartbroken. At least, he told himself, he had his two best friends still with him.

"Now, we can finally rest!" the Boy Who Lived sighed.

"Yeah, and get going with life!" Ron added. He turned to Hermione and took her in his arms. "Come on, love, let's go find a place where we can be alone. I'm betting that snog in the Room of Requirement was just a preview." But Hermione gently squirmed out of his embrace and turned away. "'Mione? What's wrong, love?"

Hermione wouldn't look at either of the boys. "How can you love someone like me?" Ron goggled at her.

"How can I…bloody hell, Hermione, do you realize how scared I was at Malfoy Manor?"

"That's not what I meant," she responded. She turned back to face them. "How can you love someone who can't love you back in return…completely?"

"I don't understand," Ron offered. He took her hand. "Hermione…I need to know…do you love me or not? Whatever you're answer is, I'll understand." Hermione stared at him, and then suddenly burst into tears.

"Oh, you want too much!" she sobbed. "I love you! Isn't that enough? I can't help what's passed." She looked down at the ground. "I do love you…but I love him too."

Ron stared at her. "You love him too? Who's him?" A new thought made an anger erupt within him. "Victor?" he demanded.

"No!" Hermione answered quickly. Then, she looked at her other best friend. "Harry."

The boys stared at her, stunned, as she proceeded to explain.

"While you guys were destroying the Elder Wand, I went off into the grounds to be alone. I had to think. My feelings for the two of you have become muddled over the last year, and I wanted to straighten them out once and for all. So, I performed a very complicated bit of magic. It's called a Devotion Spell. It's meant to show the caster who they're true love is. Well, I did and what happened was very rare: visions of both of you came out of my wand. They told me that I loved you both equally in my heart. I showed Minister Kingsley the procedure, and he said that it is indeed a rare result of magic, so rare that it must be honored. Therefore, I can marry both of you – polygamy – but it would not violate any moral codes." She paused to look up at both of them. "I love you, Harry, Ron – I love you like this!" She made to run to them and kiss them, but Harry and Ron, disturbed, backed away.

"No! Hermione, magic or no magic, I don't think this is right," Harry conjectured. He turned to Ron. "Do you?"

"Not in the slightest," Ron concurred. "Can't you just choose?" he asked Hermione.

"No, I can't! And I don't want to." She reached for them longingly. "Please Harry, Ron. I want to marry you guys. I want you boys – in my bed. I love you both more than anyone has ever loved, and I want to build a family with you."

Ron and Harry looked at each other. They decided right then and there that they would do this together. "Alright," they agreed in unison. Hermione blinked in surprise.

"Really?" she squealed.

"Yes," said Harry, and he and Ron enveloped her in their arms. Then, Ron had a thought. "What will Hermione's parents say? Or my family?"

"Doesn't matter," Harry deflected. "We'll build our own little family now. It's going to be great."

Hermione smiled up at both of them. She was going to get everything she'd ever wanted.


	2. Chapter 2: Two Grooms and a Bride

**Chapter 2: Two Grooms and a Bride**

Later that summer, the Burrow had been transformed into a marquee for the second time in a year. Only this time, there would be no Death Eaters gate-crashing and a lot more paparazzi. The media was in frenzy that the Golden Trio would be marrying each other. Ridiculous theories abounded, some of which included polygamy and others went so far as to accuse Harry and Ron of being gay (which they weren't). Minister Shacklebolt had to hold a press conference to dispel these outlandish claims and explain the rare magical concept behind what some had termed The Wedding of the Century.

When the big day finally arrived, there was no shortage of guests. Security was at its maximum, and even some who were on the official guest list had to be turned away for lack of space and fire code concerns. These people were redirected to a hill overlooking the Weasley home, where a rented jumbotron, bewitched with magic, had been set up to broadcast the event live.

Down behind Mr. Weasley's tool shed, Mr. Granger looked his daughter up and down. She looked stunning, but that did nothing to dispel his emotions. As a father, he had ever right to be nervous over giving his only daughter away. But the fact that it was to not one, but two men – men who were arguably the most powerful wizards in the magical world – made the feelings all the more enhanced. He had his misgivings, to say the least.

"Sweetheart, are you sure about this?" he asked Hermione for probably the tenth time that morning. Hermione just smiled at him.

"Daddy, I want this. More than I've ever wanted anything. I love Harry and Ron, and they love me. They're honest, they're sweet, they would never do anything to hurt me…and they'll protect me. You just have to trust that they can."

Mr. Granger sighed. There was no changing his daughter's mind; that much was clear. Grudgingly, he escorted her to the foot of the marquee to be ready for the start of the ceremony.

Meanwhile, in an upstairs bedroom, Harry and Ron were helping to fix each other's suits.

"Ready for this, mate?" asked Harry.

"Absolutely," Ron said. "But still nervous, too." He paused before asking. "Say, Harry? How are we going to work out…"

"…the logistics of tonight and every night for the rest of our natural lives?" Harry grinned. "We'll figure it out tonight, or just let Hermione do it. Knowing her, she probably already has." Ron laughed.

The best friends proceeded down to the front of the marquee and slipped through a fold in the tent to reach the altar without coming down the aisle and encountering Hermione before it was time. Soon, the procession began. Finally, when Harry and Ron could stand it no longer, she appeared.

Neither of the men could belief it. Hermione had morphed into an angel, a goddess, or any other ethereal creature that made mere mortals drool. She was the epitome of beauty in her dress and her blissful smile at the sight of her loves made her look even more radiant. She finally reached them.

"You look brilliant," Ron whispered to her.

"Yeah, why don't you dress like that more often?" Harry inquired.

"Always the tone of surprise," Hermione smiled. They paused, waiting for Kingsley to begin presiding.

"Well, here we are," Ron offered up to fill the gap.

"Together forever," Hermione concurred.

Finally, the ceremony began. It was slightly more complicated than a traditional wedding, as the vows had to be said and rings exchanged an extra time and it had to be assured that each participant had said their words to everyone else. At last, Kingsley declared the Golden Trio husbands and wife. Everyone applauded and Ron and Harry were grinning like fools. Then, it came time to kiss the bride. Harry and Ron did not try to hide their confusion over who should initiate this.

"You go first," Harry offered.

"No, you, you're the Chosen One," Ron countered. The crowd got a big kick out of the spectacle, and everyone laughed.

 _Oh, for Godric's sake, boys, it's not like I have cooties,_ Hermione thought, but she remained patient and took it upon herself to randomly choose who to kiss first. She turned to the youngest Weasley boy and said sweetly, "Ron…I think you're supposed to kiss me."

"Oh, right," Ron agreed, as if he hadn't known all along that's what was supposed to be done. He took Hermione in his arms and kissed her with the passion of someone who had waited for years to express his feelings. Hermione was surprised by Ron's enthusiasm, but found herself responding wildly to his lips. They broke apart after a moment, and Hermione felt dizzy with happiness.

"My turn," a voice whispered in her ear, and Harry wrapped his arms around her waist from behind. She turned back to him and he kissed her gently. Hermione nearly collapsed at his touch. Both of them tasted oh so good, and she knew she didn't want to kiss anyone else ever again for the rest of her life.

The audience went nuts at this and didn't stop applauding for twenty minutes.

* * *

The reception was the party of the year. The butterbeer and feast was overflowing, and George Weasley looked his happiest in months. Hermione felt like she was in heaven. She danced with her dad, and then was passed back and forth between her boys for the rest of the night. She leaned into their muscular frames and smiled in contentment.

At long last, the crowd began to disperse. Harry, Ron and Hermione were hustled by Aurors past the paparazzi to their waiting limo and it sped away. Ron whispered to Harry if they could put up the shield separating the back from the front so one of them could privately consummate their marriage with Hermione. Harry nearly cried from laughter, knowing it was a joke, but nevertheless felt the need to tell Ron to be patient until they got to their new home.

The house turned out to be in Harry's infanthood home of Godric's Hollow. The newlyweds got out of the limo and approached the front door.

"Oh, I can't wait to see the inside! Let's go!" Hermione said, but Harry stopped her.

"Whoa there. Old English custom- carry the bride across the threshold." So saying, he swept Hermione off her feet and went inside. The bride squealed in partial protest, partial delight.

"Harry Potter, put me down!"

"No," Harry laughed. To vex her more, he began to waltz around the room with her in his arms, humming as he went. "Dum, da da dum, da dum, da dum dum dum…" He spun, and effortlessly passed Hermione off to Ron, who then proceeded to carry her upstairs to their waiting bedroom. All three of them laughed heartedly. Ron finally reached the top landing and kicked the door open with his foot.

"Welcome home, Mrs. Potter-Weasley," He said grandly. The three of them had agreed that this would be her new name, and the men would simply keep their surnames. Hermione smiled at her new identity. She began to kiss Ron all over his face in a sweet display of puppy love.

"Can you take me to bed?" she whispered in his ear. Ron gladly set her down on their bed. Hermione stretched out and looked up at her husbands lovingly. She watched as they went about the room and into the adjacent bathroom, making sure everything was just so. She thought they were so cute when they engrossed themselves in a task. Finally, they moved out towards the hallway.

"Give us a second, love. There's something we need to discuss," Harry told her. When he and Ron were alone, they faced each other. "I think you should be the first to make love to Hermione. You were in love with her before I was."

Ron blushed slightly at Harry's directness, but agreed. He had dreamed of being the one to take away Hermione's virginity, and was touched that Harry was conceding this task to him without any sort of argument. "Alright. Thanks, mate. I'll call you when we're done." He strode back into the bedroom, where his gorgeous bride was waiting.

"Are you ready, love?" Hermione asked him. Ron sat down on the bed.

"I've been ready for a long time," he admitted. Hermione sat up.

They kissed, tenderly at first, and then with growing passion. Ron gently unzipped Hermione's wedding dress and slipped her out of it. Hermione threw off Ron's suit, little by little. The pair fell back onto the bed, ready to consummate their marriage. Ron decided to tease his new wife a bit by not caving right away; instead, he started kissing her all over her body. Hermione giggled at his touch.

"This is completely different from…" Hermione stopped short. Ron paused in his caressing of her.

"Different than what, love?"

Hermione would not meet his gaze. "Ron, honey, I'm sorry, but I have to tell you." Her voice lowered and she murmured. "I'm not a virgin."

Ron looked dumbstruck. His eyes filled with tears, and he began to shake in rage. Someone had gotten to his true love first. "Who?," he growled. He could only think of one possible person, and his guess was all but confirmed when Hermione didn't answer him right away.

"Krum. I slept with Victor Krum." She reached for him pleadingly when Ron looked as through he wanted to stalk from the room. "But I regretted it the minute it was over. It was spur of the moment, Ron. You've got to believe me."

"How could you sleep with him?" Ron asked, looking as though he was about to cry. "How? I didn't sleep with Lavender! Not once, _not once_ , did I give in to her desires to do it with me, because I wanted to save my first time for someone extra special: you!"

"I know, and I want you to have that. You're my husband; I love you. I'm yours, Ron: forever and always yours. Please don't be mad at me for something that's in the past. Krum never did and never will mean what you and Harry mean to me. Let's make love and move on. Please."

Ron softened, though he still looked sad. A single tear rolled down his cheek, but he steeled his nerves. "Alright." He bent over Hermione and began to make love to her. Hermione gasped as he entered her, but slowly began to relax at the familiarity.

"Oh that's wonderful," she breathed in between heated kisses with her husband. And, then, because she meant it and wanted to eradicate his sadness: "God, you're so much better than him."

Reinvigorated, Ron thrust faster and faster and quickly found a rhythm. He touched Hermione in all the right places, discovering what turned her on. Finally, with a scream of his name, she climaxed. Ron followed seconds later, and feasted on her body hungrily. When their lips met in a searing kiss, Hermione could taste her juices on his tongue. She pulled back to look into his eyes.

"I love you, Ronald Bilius Weasley," she sighed. Ron grinned at her.

"And I have always loved you. Rest, now, while I go get Harry." He slipped into some boxer shorts and a T-shirt and left the room.

A few minutes later, Harry strolled in, wearing only his boxers. "You look bloody gorgeous," he told her. Hermione looked him up and down and grinned seductively.

"And you look like someone I want. Come here, you." She grabbed him and kissed him hard, pulling him down on top of her. Once again, she felt that electrifying feeling as a man unified with her. Thus the Chosen One and the Brightest Witch of Her Age began to have sex.

Harry was like a machine. He lit up his bride faster than Ron even did, going right for her weak spots immediately. Hermione guessed that Ron had communicated all of them to Harry, like one would share cheat codes in a video game. She moaned sweet nothings to him as they began to move in sync faster and faster. At last, Harry groaned, "Oh, god!" and he came. Hermione seized his manhood and sucked on it with the greediness of a baby. When she had had her fill, she sank back into the pillow and sighed.

"Harry James Potter, I adore you. What did I do to deserve such attractive, loving young men?"

"For just being you," Harry smiled. He kissed her once and shifted off of her. "Go to sleep, darling. You must be exhausted."

That was the last thing Hermione heard before she drifted into unconsciousness.


	3. Chapter 3: Married Life

**Chapter 3: Married Life**

Hermione slowly awoke in the last hour before dawn. She knew she was naked, lying there in the middle of the giant bed. She could feel someone spooning her from behind and twisted slightly to see that it was Harry. She lowered her head back down onto Ron's bare chest. A smile played at the corner of her lips as she observed her sleeping husbands.

 _Husbands_. That seemed so surreal. And she felt so, too, flanked by her boys on either side of her in bed. She had not a care in the world, and did not mind what others thought of her unconventional position.

As sunlight began to stream in through the window, Hermione gently slipped out of bed and into the shower, wanting to clean up before leaving for work. The Ministry staff had granted them a full 10 days for their honeymoon at the end of the month of July, as compensation for a scheduling snafu during the wedding's preparations. So, for the next 2 weeks, the Golden Trio would be going in to work at the Ministry: Harry and Ron as Aurors and Hermione in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Hermione was so engrossed in her shower, that she did not notice someone slip into the shower behind her.

She spun, startled, only to find Harry standing there in all his glory.

"Whatcha doing?" she asked coyly. Harry grinned.

"Nothing. Just it's gonna be a long day, and I thought I might need some loving to get me through." He pressed her up against the wall, hands groping, his lips kissing everywhere he could reach. Hermione tried to squirm away, playing hard to get.

"Harry, please…mmm…I can't…I have to get ready for work."

"So do I. But you know what they say: play hard, work hard, right?"

"I think it's the other way around, honey…gah, you're not making this easy," as Harry nibbled at her bare breast. Finally, she gave up and became puddy in his hands. The pair began to make out, the warm water cascading over their naked bodies. Suddenly, Hermione felt a hardness press into her thigh behind her and another pair of lips suck at her neck.

"Good…mmm…morning, love" she sighed as Ron's mouth found it's way to hers.

"Why'd you guys start without me?" she heard her other husband whine. She burst out laughing and melted, allowing both men to ravage her body and have sex with her simultaneously. It was the most blissful feeling in the world. Following the climax, all three cleaned, dressed and left for work.

* * *

Over those next two weeks, Hermione poured herself into her new job. Most of it was bearable and focused on things she was genuinely interested in doing, especially all the issues concerning magical creature rights.

The one thing that she could not find bearable was other women looking at her husbands with unmasked lust. Harry and Ron were rising rapidly through the Auror ranks, becoming some of the most powerful wizards in the world. Many of these women would give her dirty looks out of jealousy, and some had the audacity to come up to her and ask what it was like to have the Boy Who Lived and the Hot Weasley all to herself in bed. Hermione would field these questions like a pro, and took great satisfaction in angering her colleagues even more by casually divulging her romps with her husbands in great detail. This was what got her through those periods of feeling as though she was not good enough for her boys. Harry and Ron were neither oblivious to their wife's feelings nor the attention granted them by other girls and constantly reassured Hermione that she was the only woman they would ever love.

"Those girls are all the same: no substance. They don't mean anything to us," they would tell her.

Following their brief introduction to the Ministry, the Golden Trio was rewarded with a beautiful honeymoon in the States. They stayed in a different city along the East Coast every night, shagging together before they went to sleep. Hermione loved the hustle and bustle of New York, fascinated herself with the American concept of law in Washington D.C., and tanned on the beaches of Miami. It was heaven on earth.

* * *

Several months later, it was Christmastime. Hermione had been released for her break from work about a week before the 25th, but her husbands weren't getting out until the 22nd. So it was that on that night, Hermione had prepared an extra special meal for Harry and Ron when they came home. At the sound of that familiar POP! of Apparition, she spun around happily.

"Hello, hello, hello?" Harry called from the foyer. "'Mione? Sweetheart, we're home!"

"In here, boys!" she called. Harry and Ron trekked into the kitchen, discarding their coats and scarfs on nearby chairs.

"Happy Christmas, baby," they told her as they each kissed her.

"Happy Christmas, loves," she smiled. Hermione adored all the little pet names she and her husbands had for each other. There were all the usual ones like _darling_ , _love, honey, baby, dear, sweetheart_. Then there were the more specific ones. Ron always called her _My Little Bookworm_. She would call him _My Sexy Ginger_. Harry would call her _Miss Brilliant_. She would call him _My Hot Four-Eyes_. Harry would call Ron _My Partner in Crime_. Ron would call Harry _My Bloody Pain in the Ass_.

A brilliant chicken and stuffing was quickly served, on the promise that a bigger and delicious turkey would be in store for the main event three days hence.

"So, how was work?" Hermione asked.

"Great," Harry offered, turning back quickly to his meal.

"But long, as always," Ron added. "Dawles kept us right up to the last minute. Extra training sessions, simulations, duel scrimmages. Very tedious."

"Hey, it'll be good prep for what we've got next," Harry reminded him.

"What have you got next?" Hermione asked.

Harry and Ron glanced at each other. Harry finally proceeded to explain.

"The Muggle Prime Minister was kidnapped. We believe old cronies of Voldemort are responsible. Dawles is sending Aurors out in waves with different tasks. He assigned Ron and I with the main job: going after the Minister and rescuing him."

"But won't that be very dangerous?" Hermione asked quietly.

"Well, yeah, but honey, all these tasks are dangerous," Ron said. He took her hand. "Originally, the entire operation was going to be done in reverse of what it is now. Harry and I were going to be shipped out on Boxing Day as the first phase, and the other phases incrementally following once we had neutralized the threat to the Minister." He got up and embraced Hermione as she began to cry. "Oh, don't cry, darling. We'll still have our holidays together. Harry and I had to practically bust Dawles' arm to get him to ship us out last. We said we wanted to have our holiday with our beautiful wife."

Hermione looked up into his eyes. "It's just that we've never been separated before." She sighed. "When do you leave?"

"3 days after New Years," Harry told her. "But don't worry-" and he got up and joined in the group hug, nuzzling the nape of Hermione's neck. "That means we get almost two whole weeks with you: presents, Christmas movies, sledding…"

"And shag fests every night!" Ron finished. Hermione laughed, hiccupping through her lingering tears.

"How long will you be gone?" she asked. Harry and Ron stole another glance at each other.

"We don't know," they chorused. Hermione looked like she was about to burst into tears again, so Harry quickly added. "It's just we have to locate the Minister first. And you know how Death Eaters work, they always operate in shadows, and underground now that Voldemort's gone. We don't know when we'll track him down, but when we do, we'll get him and bring him back as quick as we can."

Hermione nodded. She trusted her boys to be smart and safe, but the dangers involved with their jobs worried her nonetheless. She knew Harry and Ron were at the top of any Death Eater's Kill List, and all would jump at the chance to say they killed a member of the Golden Trio. The threesome disentangled themselves from each other and cleared the table. Ron called from the living room:

"Hey guys! Hurry up in there! Freezy the Snowman's on!"

"Frosty, Ronald," Hermione chuckled and she and Harry went in to join Ron on the couch.

* * *

The morning of January 4th dawned clear and peaceful. The sun was just peeking over the horizon when the alarm clock beside the giant bed went off. Harry quickly deactivated it and showered quietly. As he made to suit up for their mission, he gently roused Ron.

"C'mon mate. I let you sleep as long as I could. Shower's all yours. Quiet now, don't wake Hermione."

Ron prepared himself as softly as he could. The mates then checked to make sure they had everything.

"Got your wand?"

"Check."

"The Cloak?"

"Check."

"The Deluminator?"

"Double check."

"Alright: let's do this" Harry said.

They grabbed their overnight duffels and slipped to the door. Both paused to glance one last time at their wife's naked, sleeping form. There had been shag fests every night during the break, culminating the night before in the most passionate orgy since their wedding night. Harry and Ron had each made love to Hermione individually, and then had sex with her at the same time.

Harry bent over and kissed her cheek. Ron dared to softly kiss her lips. "We love you, little messenger," the latter whispered. That was the meaning of her name. Their wife stirred, but didn't wake. Harry and Ron quickly stole out the door and Disapparated into the early morning.


	4. Chapter 4: A Big Surprise

**Chapter 4: A Big Surprise**

Harry and Ron ran up the narrow aisle of the Boeing 767, firing curses at their Death Eater adversaries as they went. In addition, they were attempting to protect the Muggle Prime Minister.

Through advanced Auror tracking techniques, the mates had tracked the Prime Minister to a Muggle airport in the rural counties of England. They had stolen aboard the plane and successfully located their man, bound in the galley. But just as the three were about to make their escape, the Death Eaters had boarded the plane and taken off. Now trapped, the star Aurors had come up with a daring plan to fight the Death Eaters and attempt to hijack the aircraft in a bold surprise attack. So far, it was going well.

Ron fired a Killing Curse at one Death Eater from behind a seat, and the latter fell dead. Two remaining dark wizards had barricaded themselves in the cockpit. Magic alone wouldn't get them inside; they would have to have an additional strategy. Harry and Ron were at a loss until the Prime Minister suggested using spare objects as extra weapons and the food cart as a battering ram.

"Alright, but just be careful, Prime Minister," Harry warned.

The three charged, bashing the food cart again and again into the cockpit door. Harry could hear the cries of the Death Eaters inside, yelling at each other to hold the door.

Ron cast the Bombarda spell on the door. A dent appeared in it, but nothing more. The redhead tried the spell again, this time on the food cart just before Harry and the Prime Minister rammed it into the door. A gaping hole appeared, out of which came a Stunning Spell that missed Ron by inches. Harry quickly sprayed contents from a fire extinguisher through the hole. Cries from within told them that someone had been hit.

Ron repeated the procedure and the door now partially caved in, enough for a man to squeeze through. Ron disarmed one of the Death Eaters and started to force his way into the cockpit, wrestling with his opponent over his wand as he did so. The door now gave way almost completely, save for its hinges, as the bewitched food cart found its mark again.

The airplane rocked from side to side violently, as the pilot attempted to throw the attackers off balance. Harry and the Prime Minister went for the pilot while Ron remained engaged with the co-pilot. Harry struggled and grappled for control of the yoke.

Finally, Ron killed his man, then the pilot from behind. The unlikely trio was now in control of the plane. Harry and Ron strapped themselves into the seats and the Prime Minister sat in an emergency exit chair.

The plane was falling rapidly, thanks to the Death Eater's self-inflicted turbulence.

"Harry, do you know how to fly this thing?" asked Ron.

"I can try," Harry reasoned. "Let's see: hydraulics, good. Air pressure, good. Altitude: falling. Speed:" The meter calculating this latter point seemed to be broken. "Speed:" Harry repeated, trying not to panic. They were out-of-control!

Harry calmly gripped the yoke and attempted to make a turn in the direction of London-Heathrow airport. There was a sudden violent jolt and a boom.

"What the bloody hell was that?" Harry growled.

"You hit the side of a mountain, tail wings have been knocked out," Ron reported. "Not to worry: we're still flying half the plane."

"We're almost to the airport; we'll have to do a controlled crash: best we can hope for," Harry rationalized. The now-burning plane careened for the nearest landing strip.

"Ron! Activate the landing gear!" Harry roared over the howl of the wind. Ron obeyed, and Harry guided the plane as best he could.

"Touchdown in 3, 2,…" There was a horrifying crunch as the plane landed violently, ripping out the landing gear. The aircraft skidded down the runway, finally screeching to a stop near the end. Harry collapsed back in his chair, relieved.

* * *

The plane was safely evacuated and a team of Auror trainees transported the Prime Minister to his mansion, before taking Harry and Ron back to Ministry of Magic via shuttle. The star Aurors arrived home to heroes' welcomes, and were personally congratulated by Minister Shacklebolt.

"You have saved the Muggle world from its darkest hours, my boys," Kingsley told them. "They and the wizarding world are in your debt. I wish to plan a conference with you both to debrief…"

Kingsley droned on, but Harry and Ron were no longer listening as they and the entourage of wizarding dignitaries processed through the main Atrium. There was another presence lurking nearby. Something…no, someone…

"Excuse us," Harry said abruptly.

"Certainly," the Minister replied to their backs.

Harry and Ron went over to the perimeter of the Atrium, glancing behind the columns. They were sure…yes! They turned, and Hermione slid into their arms.

Harry and Ron forgot about the Prime Minister, Death Eaters and everything else. Holding Hermione, kissing her, they felt complete again. Centered. Happy.

When they broke their kissing at last, Hermione got out, "Thank goodness you're back. I'm whole again."

 _Whole_. "We missed you, Hermione. We missed you so," Harry told her.

She shivered in the circle of their arms. "There were rumors that you both were killed. I've been living with unbearable dread." She clung to each of them, as if to assure herself that they were real.

Ron disentangled himself from his wife's embrace and gave her a little shake. "We're back. We're alright."

Hermione smiled, and Ron pulled her back into his arms, wanting her close. "It's feels like we've been apart for a lifetime," he reasoned. "And it might have been – if we hadn't found the Prime Minister, I don't think we would have ever been recalled until an investigation was completed." He and Harry started to kiss her again, but she pulled away and looked about fearfully.

"Wait," she told them. "Not here. The Death Eaters-"

"No, here!" Harry insisted, reaching for her again. Neither he nor Ron could express how much they needed their wife right now, her calm acceptance, her love. She didn't know about the hijacked plane. "We're tired off all this hiding from dark wizard spies that don't exist. We don't care if they know we're married."

"Harry, don't say things like that," Hermione chided. "You and Ron are important to the Ministry, to ending this violence." She smiled up at them adoringly. "I love you boys more than anything, but I won't let you put yourselves in potential danger for me."

"We've given our lives to the Auror Department," Ron said slowly, meaning every word. "But we'd only give _up_ our lives for you."

"I wouldn't like that," Hermione grinned coyly. "I wouldn't like that at all." She squirmed away as her boys reached for her again. "Patience, my handsome Aurors. Come to me later." She tried to get away quickly, but not fast enough to avoid Harry and Ron's training reflexes. They held her close – and when the shock of their sudden meeting faded, both could see that she was shaking.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked.

"I'm just…happy to see you," Hermione deflected, but her voice was too high and she avoided their eyes.

Harry frowned. "That's not it. I think there's more to it. What is it? Tell us what's been going on!" To his and Ron's distress, Hermione began to cry.

"You've been gone five months!" she sobbed. "It's been very hard for me. I've never felt so alone! There's…"

Ron, ever the possessive one and quick to succumb to jealously, jumped in. "Is there someone else?" he demanded. To their surprise – and relief – Hermione stopped crying.

"No!" she asserted forcefully. Then, more softly: "You still don't trust me, but nothing has changed."

But there _was_ a change, Harry and Ron could both sense it now; they just could not identify it. Hoping to wrestle it out of their wife, Harry observed slowly, "We're sorry, it's just…we've never seen you like this."

"Nothing's wrong," Hermione reiterated. She looked away before turning back to her husbands. "Something wonderful has happened."

Harry and Ron looked at each other, perplexed. _Wonderful?_ They thought. _Then why did you get upset like that? Why were you crying?_ Meanwhile, Hermione took a deep breath before looking up into their faces.

"Harry…Ronnie, I'm pregnant."

Harry and Ron's mouths simultaneously dropped open. Of all the things that had crossed their minds that might explain their wife's behavior, they had never expected this. _A baby? We're going to have a baby?_ Hermione searched their eyes, looking for further reaction.

"Well, say something!" she begged when none came forthwith. All the boys could think was one thought: _We're going to have a baby_.

"That's…that's wonderful," Ron croaked. Hermione leaned into them.

"What are we going to do?" she asked.

Harry and Ron thought to themselves. This was certainly new territory, one that would have to be reconciled with their present reality. Job and family…balance between the two could be complicated, especially with the dangerous nature of their jobs. But, the thought of their impending fatherhood made them banish the unknown from their minds. Harry spoke these thoughts aloud.

"We won't worry about that right now." He kissed Hermione once, then again before allowing Ron to do the same. "This is a happy moment – the happiest moment of our lives."


	5. Chapter 5: All Good Things

**Chapter 5: All Good Things**

Hermione awoke in the large bed, snug for the first time in months. The draft of the bedroom tickled the parts of her naked body that weren't covered by the blanket. She shifted to see her one husband, propped up on his elbow and smiling down at her.

"Good morning," she whispered to Harry.

"Morning," he returned and bent down to kiss her.

"We made love all night," Hermione breathed against his lips.

"Yes we did," Harry smiled, continuing to kiss her. Kissing turned into heated snogging until a thought came to Hermione and she tore herself away.

"We made love all night," she repeated, panicked. Her hands instinctively flew to her rounding stomach, until she let out a bark of laughter.

"What is it?" Harry asked, concerned. "Is the baby hurt?" He reached around his wife with his foot and kicked Ron in the shin. "Oi! Wake up, you!"

Ron jerked awake. "Huh? Wasn't me," he groaned.

"Calm down, guys. I thought that I couldn't have sex with either of you while I'm pregnant because it might hurt the baby. But, then I remembered my doctor telling me that's not true."

"So, we can still do it and the baby won't be harmed?" Ron asked, now fully awake.

"Yup."

"Good," he grinned. Then he jumped on top of her.

"Ron!" Hermione laughed. "What are you doing?"

"Getting my fix with my sexy wife," Ron answered and began to do it with her. Hermione tried to get away, but Ron locked her in a tight embrace. They rolled around the bed, Ron kissing the life out of Hermione and Hermione trying to squirm free. They rolled back again…right onto a laughing Harry.

"Hermione sandwich!" the boys crowed, and began to get her off simultaneously. Hermione gave up as usual. She never won these cute little battles. Threesomes always turned her on; she was a sucker for them.

* * *

That summer began as a good one. The Golden Trio still had work, but at least Harry and Ron had not been assigned to any more missions yet. So, the three had plenty of quality time together.

Harry and Ron soon took it upon themselves to cater to Hermione's every whim. They cooked meals for her, did most of the household chores, and ran errands for her. Hermione resisted at first, then let them have their way. She thought it was sweet that they devoted so much time to her well being. It gave her time to prepare for the new addition to the family. At night, she would sit by the fire and pour through books on baby names. She had to pick two, as she had learned she was carrying twins. Occasionally, she would run a set of names by her husbands. Harry was very picky, always asking what a name meant or postulating that it sounded wrong. Ron had only one condition: that the baby not be called Victor if one or both were boys.

At the close of August, work renewed in earnest. Hermione was just nearing the end of her seventh month, and had officially been placed on maternity leave. She was getting very round. One evening, as she was cooking dinner, she found it difficult to stir the pot with the ladle.

"Having trouble?" came a voice and she nearly jumped out of her skin.

"You startled me!" she gasped as she pulled Ron in for a hug; she must not have heard them Apparate into the house. Ron chuckled.

"Well, excuse me for wondering if you and the babies are safe."

Hermione laughed. "One of them - she keeps kicking."

"She?" Ron wrinkled his nose as he frowned. "What makes you think it's a girl?"

"My motherly intuition," Hermione teased. She knew how much Ron wanted a son. Indeed, he was convinced that any baby of his would be a boy; his argument that the Weasley line almost always produced men was obvious, but nevertheless compelling. She guided Ron's hand to her belly. His hand almost snapped back as soon as he felt the kicking within.

"Whoa!" he smiled. "With a kick that strong, it's gotta be a boy! I reckon we have a future Beater on our hands!" Hermione laughed, and he laughed with her. _This is how it should be, always_ she thought, as she melted into Ron's arms and sighed in contentment. Husband and wife then finished dinner once the other husband complained that he was "bloody ready to eat a hippogriff, I'm starving so." Over dinner, the men discussed work. After a moment of silence, Ron cleared his throat.

"Hermione, dear….we have something to tell you. Harry and I have been assigned to another mission."

Hermione sighed. Not again. She was just starting to relax from the fear that had held her captive over that entire spring.

"A group of us are being sent on an ocean liner over to the States. We are wanting to investigate Death Eater activity that's been spied by the American Ministry of Magic along the coast. It shouldn't take as long as the last one – just some cleansing of illegal dealings," Harry explained. "We have to board tomorrow, but to get to the port, we need to drive through the night. Our bags are packed; we'll be leaving in an hour."

Hermione got up gingerly from the table, and Ron and Harry encircled her in their arms. "What's bothering you? Tell us," Ron asked.

"Oh, Harry, Ron: I'm afraid." _Afraid of this work. Afraid for our children. Afraid for both of you._

"Have faith, our love. Everything will soon be set right," Harry assured. "These Death Eaters will be gone soon. We're going there to end this violence. Wait for us until we return; things will be different, I promise." They each kissed her, long and lingering. "Please, wait for us."

"I will," Hermione sighed, and hugged each of them hard. After a few more minutes of kissing, Harry and Ron went upstairs to get their bags. They came back down, each snogged Hermione senseless and went into the garage to the waiting Ford Anglia. Only when Hermione heard the car pull out of the driveway did she let the tears fall. She was deeply upset, but she didn't know why. After all, she still had her boys.


	6. Chapter 6: My Heart Will Go On

**Chapter 6: My Heart Will Go On**

Several weeks following her husbands' departure, Hermione was in bed, reading a book. She gently rubbed her abdomen where her children were growing inside her. An ultrasound at a recent doctor's appointment had revealed to her that one of the babies had been sired by Harry; the other by Ron. The mother-to-be was overjoyed. She was carrying a part of the two men she loved more than anyone in the world inside of her.

Hermione's reverie was interrupted by a rapid knock at the door. She went downstairs and opened the door. Standing there was Seamus Finnegan, an old Hogwarts classmate of her and the boys. He was an Auror.

"Good evening, Seamus-" Hermione began, but was surprised when Seamus swept into the room. Several others followed, appearing suddenly out of the shadows along their front stoop. The Aurors ran about, shutting blinds and going through rooms. Seamus stood in the center of it all, barking out orders. He then spoke into what looked like an earpiece to Hermione:

"Mr. Minister, we have The Brains. Hero Land is now secure. Do you copy? Over." He held up a hand to field off Hermione's burning questions to listen. "That is an affirmative, Mr. Minister. We will gut the place from top to bottom and then bring The Brains & Precious Cargo to you. Over and out."

"Seamus, what is going on?" asked Hermione. Seamus turned to her, his expression grim.

"Mrs. Potter-Weasley, we are in the middle of a national crisis. We have been assigned to your protection. We will kill anyone on sight who attempts to do you or your unborn babies harm. It is imperative that the Golden Trio lives on."

 _National crisis? Kill on sight? Have Harry and Ron been assigned this protection?_ Hermione wondered, bewildered. She wanted to voice these thoughts aloud, but Seamus was no longer paying her any attention. He strode through the house, inspecting every little nook and cranny and absorbing thousands of pieces of information a minute from his Auror subordinates. The Aurors then gathered in the center of the kitchen, plastic bags filled with Harry, Ron and Hermione's belongings that Hermione guessed might be used as evidence for a crime. Suddenly, Seamus cocked his head and a finger flew to the earpiece.

"Talk to me," he ordered. "Affirmative. We'll bring her over straight away." He grabbed Hermione's arms. "Come along, Hermione." He and the Aurors hustled her out the front door to a waiting car. Hermione could barely keep up the pace with her pregnancy, so an Auror immediately scooped her up in his arms and carried her.

Suddenly, yells of "Avada Kedavra!" came out of the darkness. Seamus and several Aurors blocked the bolts of green light and returned fire.

"Stupefy! Get them out of here!" Seamus roared, gesturing to Hermione. Hermione and the Auror carrying her (who turned out to be Dennis Creevey) dove into the backseat of an SUV. Dean Thomas tackled Hermione, using his body as a shield to protect her. "Get down and stay down," he ordered.

"For bloody Godric's sake, Neville, go!" Dennis roared.

"We're gone, man! Solid gone" Neville shot back and the car took off. As the vehicle sped through the streets, Hermione began to shake from the trauma she had just endured. Eventually, she fainted.

* * *

When Hermione came to, she found herself surrounded by blanche walls. It reminded her of the many doctor's offices she had visited over the last several months. She realized she was lying in a comfortable bed, with a nightstand and a tray of food beside her. She was hooked up to a machine, and drips which contained morphine and other sedatives hung from them.

A powerful kick within her abdomen caused her to wince, and her hand flew instinctively to her stomach. One of the babies had stirred. She could not help but smile at this. They were safe. She and Harry and Ron's babies were safe.

A giant steel door opposite her opened and she looked up. In strode Kingsley Shacklebolt. After greetings and questions probing each other's welfare, the Minister of Magic got right to the point.

"Mrs. Potter-Weasley, as I'm sure you've been told, we suffered a national crisis last night. Our world was the victim of an intricate and covert operation – an attack – with a scope not seen since the Second War or the American Muggle event known as 9/11." He breathed heavily before continuing. "The operation was a calculated effort to bring down the Ministry of Magic and instill anarchy, through the coordinated and nearly simultaneous assassinations of several high ranking Ministry officials and iconic heroes/symbols. It is quite ingenious in nature, actually – we believe the plan was modeled after a conspiracy surrounding the assassination of U.S. President Abraham Lincoln in the mid-1800's." Another pause as the Minister wiped his glasses clean. "As you may have guessed, you were on a targeted list of people to be killed, as were your husbands and was I."

Hermione sat up in the bed and reached out a hand to Kingsley. "Minister, where are my husbands? Are they alright? I need to know."

"We are still attempting to locate the ocean liner your husbands and their fellow Aurors were on board. There is the possibility that their ship may have been attacked, but we have yet to confirm. And, not to worry, we are perfectly safe here. This is a secure, underground bunker in a top secret location. You and I and several members of my administration will remain here until further notice." With a final order that she rest for now and new developments would be reported to her immediately, the Minister strode from the room.

Hermione sank back into the pillows. Harry and Ron may have been endangered. As far as she was concerned, they were implied missing in action. She prayed that they were alright. _They have to be alright_ , she told herself. _They need to see their children._ She was still stroking her abdomen when she fell asleep.

* * *

Hermione was awoken several hours later by Auror Hestia Jones, who ushered her out of the room and through a maze of tunnels spread throughout the bunker. Finally, they entered a giant room filled with computers, monitors, televisions and other technology.

"Good evening, Mrs. Potter-Weasley," a staffer greeted her. "Welcome to the Situation Room."

Hermione was guided to a conference table and helped into a chair. Surrounding her were Aurors, Seamus, Dean, Neville and Dennis Creevey among them, high officials in the Minister's administration and Kingsley himself at the head of the table. On top of the table sat a mini Muggle tripod.

"Minister, you are live in 3, 2, …go." Hermione had just registered what was happening as Kingsley began to speak:

"My fellow wizards, we are less than 24 hours removed from these horrific events. But, I can assure you, as one of my predecessors did similarly: your Ministry remains strong. The forces of evil that threatened us on September 23rd, 2003 – a date that will live in infamy – have failed. Our government has continued and is still." He paused impressively.

"However, we have not endured without our losses. This attack targeted the lives of people that our world holds dear, myself included. We lost several brave men and women yesterday – and many other lives were violently extinguished along with them. Therefore, I now ask for a moment of silence as we pray for the souls of the victims."

A monitor behind Kingsley's head lit up and pictures with captioned names below them began to appear. Hermione recognized several Hogwarts teachers and students, workers at Gringotts Wizarding bank and Ministry staff (she would later learn that a hijacked airplane had been flown into the wizarding school and a train purposefully robbed and derailed into the bank). But the worst was yet to come. All at once, Ron's face appeared on the screen.

Hermione let out a strangled scream of anguish: "NOOOOO! Please, please, God, no…" Harry's face quickly followed, and that did it. Hermione collapsed out of her chair onto the floor, sobbing uncontrollably. Her husbands, the loves of her life, were dead. The ocean liner had been attacked; it had to have been. Her babies would never know their fathers.

All at once she felt hands grabbing for her, but she fought them off. She needed to get to her wand; she wanted to die, to kill herself – why subject her children to a life where they had no fathers? Hermione felt herself being carried from the room, down the hall and placed in a chair. She vaguely heard someone calling her name.

"Hermione, listen to me!" Neville Longbottom was telling her. "I can only imagine the grief you must feel – no wife or mother should ever have to go through something like this – but to mitigate your pain as best we can, we must show everything to you at once. Just try and calm down, and when you're ready, we'll take you back inside." It took well over an hour for Hermione to do that, but when she finally stopped hyper-ventilating, the Aurors ushered her back inside the Situation Room.

Highly trained agents had managed to recover security camera footage and sound recordings from the doomed ship. Hermione watched as a squad of roughly 15 Death Eater pirates forcefully boarded the boat and took it over. They killed two Aurors as a deterrent, and took Harry, Ron and a group of 20 others hostage. Hermione could hear her one husband trying to negotiate with the Death Eaters.

"Just stay calm. We can work this out," Harry was saying. At the sound of its father's voice, one of the babies gave a sharp kick. Hermione eyes stung with tears.

The Death Eaters refused to listen and locked the prisoners below deck. There, recordings were played back of the Aurors discussing what to do. Then, Patronus messages from loved ones could be seen appearing and asking if they were alright. Little by little, the wizarding soliders pieced together what was happening and their likely fate. They began to come up with a plan to break out of the galley, race for the captain's quarters and force their way into it to regain control of the ship. Many of the Aurors, ever wanting the smell of adventure, agreed, but some were less sure. Ron could be heard reassuring the hesitant ones.

"It's alright. Harry and I hijacked an airplane just like these guys did for a mission once. How different can this be?"

 _What? When the bloody hell did my husbands hijack an airplane?_ Hermione thought. She wanted to yell at Ron that it was probably very different, thank you very much, and to not act foolishly.

Just then, the ship began to rock violently. Screams could be heard. Several Aurors began sending return Patronus messages to their loved ones. Some said goodbye, some gave clues as to their intent. Harry told Ron to Patronus Hermione. Ron tried, but his Patronus wouldn't form. Hermione felt herself reaching out to him. _He must be afraid. Who wouldn't be, in this situation?_ When the Patronus still wouldn't work, Ron pulled out his Muggle cell phone, and Hermione thanked Merlin that she had convinced him to get one and learn how to use it…until she remembered she had not received a call from him. The tape recorders then began playing a conversation Ron was having with someone else on the phone. Hermione would later learn it was a Muggle emergency dispatcher.

"Hello, this is Mrs. Madison. What is your emergency?"

"Hi, this is Ron Weasley of the Maersk Queen Victoria. We are an unarmed freighter in the Atlantic Ocean and have been boarded by armed D- pirates."

Mrs. Madison and Ron exchanged in a back and forth, in which she asked probing questions about the hijackers and the passengers' plight. Ron gave very detailed answers. Suddenly, the ship began rocking violently. Hermione could hear panic in her one husband's voice.

"We're all over the place! Thing's going to flip over any second, I reckon. I really don't know where we're going. Oh Merlin, please, help us!"

Ron then revealed to Mrs. Madison the passengers intent to rush the pirates. Mrs. Madison asked Ron if he was sure that was what they wanted to do. Ron replied they had to do it. More lurches on the ship could be felt as the camera's focus bobbed.

"Oh god!" Ron cried, and then he began screaming, "Hermione! Hermione!" Hermione shivered. His cries sounded just like the ones she had heard the horrible night at Malfoy Manor.

"Yes?" replied Mrs. Madison.

"Oh, that's my wife's name."

Mrs. Madison gave a nervous laugh. "That's my name too, Ron."

"Something's going to happen. I don't think we're going to get out of this thing. In case I don't, here's my phone number. Call my wife; she's expecting twins next month. Tell her…tell her I love her and the kids very much."

Mrs. Madison received the phone number and promised she would call. Hermione then heard Ron say to someone, "Are we all set? Ok…let's ride!"

With that, the security cameras panned as the Aurors broke out of the galley by breaking the steel lock and killing the guards. The footage followed them as they ran throughout the ship. The tape recorders picked up others sending Patronuses or making calls as they went along. The passengers fought bravely, grabbing spare wands from fallen pirates and using other Muggle weapons and objects to bring them down. They managed to reach the captain's quarters. Inside the Situation Room, people were cheering them on, even if they knew the dreaded outcome.

"Magnificent valor," Neville mused quietly.

Three Death Eater pirates had locked themselves in the quarters. The tape recorders could now only pick up a jumbled mess of soundbites, the security cameras rocked violently along with the ship as the Death Eaters sent it into turbulence, trying to throw their assailants off balance.

"Hold! Hold them from the inside! Hold!"

"Into the quarters! The quarters! If we don't, we'll die!"

"Smash that beam!"

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! Went the oak door as the passengers bashed against it.

The cameras panned as the door gave way and passengers forced their way into the quarters. The Death Eaters were now grappling with them as well as each other for control of the wheel, and began to panic.

"No! Stop them!"

"Let's get 'em!"

"GIVE IT TO ME!" screamed one Death Eater. "FUCK!" Too late.

There was a horrific crash and what sounded like an explosion before the camera footage fuzzed out. One of Kingsley's leading generals went to a map and pointed to a spot on the coastline.

"The Maersk Queen Victoria ran aground on this rocky strip of coastline, just a few miles from the port just outside the Ministry of Magic. It was carrying thousands of tons of fuel. If the ship had crashed into the port, it is estimated that the entire Ministry of Magic would have been destroyed."

Hermione felt numb. Once again, her husbands had been heroes…as well as their colleagues. They had prevented an attack on the Ministry of Magic. She began to weep for so many reasons: she had lost her loves forever, they had died protecting their world, they would never meet their children and on and on they went.


	7. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

The next few weeks were a flurry of activity for Hermione. A few days after she was given the all clear to leave the bunker, Hermione Madison did call. The two women wept as Mrs. Madison recited her entire conversation with Ron. Hermione thanked her for being there for her one husband when she could not.

Hermione attended her husbands' funerals, along with hundreds of other people, after their remains had been recovered from the shipwreck. Harry and Ron were both buried in the Weasley family cemetery.

Upon the news that one member of the Golden Trio had survived the attack, and that she was carrying a bit of the Potter and Weasley bloodlines, the wizarding media went ape. Hermione received hundreds of phone calls, emails, Patronuses and owls asking for an interview. It got so bad that Seamus, Dean, Neville and Dennis were assigned as her personal bodyguard squad. They now ran errands for her and kept her home in Godric's Hollow as secure as a fortress.

Hermione also received plenty of correspondence from thousands of witches and wizards, moved by the story of the Maersk Queen Victoria. There were notes, flowers, and gifts and gifts and gifts to spare – most of which were meant for the babies that were soon to be born. Minister Kingsley even sent each of Hermione's children an individual, personal letter.

 _Your father was a hero on September 23_ _rd_ _, 2003,_ it read in part. _We honor him for his courage and his sacrifice_.

* * *

The day of October 16th, 2003, dawned clear and sunny. Hermione got up out of bed and got ready for the day. In the almost month since her husbands' deaths, she had grown accustomed to the heightened level of security around her. It was something she had decided to keep for now, at least until she had recovered enough from her labor that was already overdue to take care of her children. She did not doubt her Auror protectors' insistence that there were people out there who would dare to try and kill the greatest witch in modern magical history. Seamus was even convinced a potential assassin would be cruel enough to wait until the birth of the children before striking and killing them all. It drove his decision to keep Hermione under heavy guard until the first of the year, perhaps even later. Hermione had resisted at first, but caved when her protectors had insisted and Kingsley had drafted an explicit executive order that Hermione be secured "until such time that threats have significantly subsided."

As Hermione was fixing lunch, she suddenly felt an odd sensation in her abdomen. Then, liquid began to cascade down her front. Her water had broken. She screamed from the pain, and her Auror guards came running. Seamus sized up what was happening in a matter of seconds, and ordered Dean and Neville to carry Hermione up to her bedroom. The Head Auror rationalized that to attempt and transport her to St. Mungo's and in such a helter-skelter state might leave their defenses open to vulnerability and subsequent penetration. Sometimes Hermione wondered if her old Irish classmate was paranoid, but she did not protest as she was placed down onto her bed.

All at once, an image flashed through her mind. She saw Ron, laughing as he placed her into their bed on their wedding night. Harry was just behind him and equally jovial. She burst into tears, then screamed as the first of many contractions hit.

"Hermione, it's going to be okay," Dean assured her.

"No, it won't! I want Harry and Ron, I just want Harry and Ron! They said they were going to stay right with me all through it!"

"I know, and I wish that were true," Dean responded gently. "Believe me, I wish they could see this too."

"I WISH I WAS DEAD!" Hermione screamed. "I WISH I WAS DEAD SO I COULD BE WITH THEM!"

"Don't talk like that! Think of your children!" Dean retorted firmly, and was about to say more when Seamus interrupted.

"Dean, call the Healers at St. Mungo's and tell them to get their ass into gear! Dennis, Neville, I want you guys to seal off this entire house from the inside NOW! Guard the doors. Anyone not wearing a nurse's apron tries to get in, shoot them!" The friends scrambled about almost frantically as they tried to obey orders. Seamus knelt by the bed and took Hermione's hand.

"I know how hard this must be for you," he said more gently. "Me and the boys may not be YOUR boys exactly, but we will stay here for as long as you need us."

Hermione sniffled. "Thank you, Seamus," then screamed so loudly, she was sure she'd burst his eardrum. Seamus didn't even blink.

"Approximately 7 minutes between each contraction. Where the bloody hell are those Healers?" he grumbled as he left the room briefly. Hermione began to cry again at the words _bloody hell_ , Ron's catchphrase.

She was startled as Molly and several of the Weasleys came rushing into the room. Molly immediately began to fuss over her.

"I'm fine, Molly, really," she insisted as Seamus stomped into the room. He yelled over his shoulder, "Ok, which one of your asshats forgot to shut down the Floo Network for this house? Do you want a bloody assassin to get in here?"

After approximately 10 minutes, Dennis entered with a Healer. "She's been cleared, boss," he told Seamus. The Healer approached Hermione and kindly instructed her to keep breathing in and out.

Afternoon passed into night. At long last, the contractions had been timed close enough together that it was time for Hermione to give birth.

"Alright, Mrs. Potter-Weasley, now on three, I want you to push. One, two, THREE!" Hermione gripped Seamus and Dean's hands like a vice and screamed as she pushed. She could vaguely hear the Healer giving her words of encouragement and noting her progress. Hermione had long awaited this moment, but was saddened that the two people who had made it possible were not here to bask in it. _Oh, Harry, Ron, if only you could see me now…wherever you two are, you better bloody be watching this._

Finally, with one last agonizing push and shout, Hermione felt something slide out of her, followed by a wail. It was piercing, but to her it was the most beautiful sound she had ever heard. She vaguely heard someone say the baby's gender and then saw her son come into view. He was definitely a Potter, with his father's piercing green eyes and raven black hair. But the rest of his face was pretty much hers. She smiled as she looked down at him. "Forrest Sirius," she murmured, and the boy was soon whisked away to be cleaned up.

But, it wasn't over yet. The whole damn process had to be repeated one more time. Hermione pushed and screeched and was pretty sure she broke at least one person's hand until another cry. According to the Healer, it was a girl. The tiny infant was placed into the arms of her mother. Hermione beamed once again. Her daughter had the same red hair and deep blue eyes of her first love. Facially, though, she was a Granger like her half-brother. Hermione had thought long and hard about girls' names in the event she had one because piecing them together had not come as naturally to her. But, she finally settled on naming the girl Sierra Rosalind (the middle name was a partially tribute to the name of her deceased father).

Everyone rejoiced at the successful operation. Seamus spoke into his earpiece with a smile tugging at his mouth. "Mr. Minister, the Precious Cargo has successfully been delivered. Over and out." As she held her children, Hermione smiled and cried all at once.

* * *

Around Thanksgiving, Hermione was in her home's new nursery, having just put the kids down to sleep. She watched them slumber in absolute adoration. Neville strode in carrying a cup of tea.

"Lunch should be ready soon," he told her.

Hermione smiled as she gratefully accepted the mug. "You boys work yourselves too hard."

"Well, that's actually in our job description, so we have to just deal with it. I don't know if Harry or Ron ever told you that."

Hermione shook her head and turned back to the cribs. After a moment of silence, she sighed contently.

"Oh, Neville, they're so gorgeous," she squealed, and excitedly began to point out every little feature of her dead husbands to him. "Forrest's hair falls over his eyes just like Harry's did. He sleeps like him, too. And Sierra – she must be dreaming – look at that smile; it's Ron's!"

Neville grinned. "I'm not so good at matching physical traits like that," he admitted. Just then, a voice called from downstairs.

"OI!" hollered Dean. "Unless you all want to starve, Seamus is going to eat your lunch!" Hermione and Neville hurried downstairs, the new mother pausing in the doorway to blow a kiss to her sleeping kids.

* * *

As promised, shortly after the first of the year, Hermione's Auror protection squad left. Hermione was actually sad to see them go. However, she had their contact information should an emergency arise.

Soon, Hermione became accustomed to her new life as a mother. Oh, there was many a sleepless night tending to them, to be sure, but the Greatest Witch of Her Age took it all in stride. Still, there were those moments where something Forrest or Sierra did, or something they said, made Hermione think of their fathers. Sometimes at night, she would stare at the pictures of them she kept on her nightstand, and tell them all about how their children were growing up. She told them of how introspective Forrest was, and how he would jump at the chance to defend his mother and half-sister, as Harry undoubtedly would. She marveled at Sierra's talent for intellect, like herself, but how her daughter could also possess Ron's dry sense of humor.

Yes, although Hermione's family was not perfectly ideal, she had to admit that, given the circumstances, it was pretty good.

* * *

Hermione walked up the steps of her home to her children's bedroom. Peering in, she saw her nine-year old daughter staring up into the night sky – thinking, no doubt.

"Sierra? Ready for bed, love?" she asked. Sierra exhaled and nodded, climbing up into bed and allowing her mother to tuck her in. There was a tiny bit of silence before Hermione asked, "So, did you have a good day at school?"

"Yeah, it was good, Mum." Hermione grinned and wished her a goodnight, but Sierra abruptly sat up. "Bedtime story, first," she pleaded. Hermione would have thought that her little girl would be too old for bedtime stories – she would be going off to Hogwarts in a few years – but still gave in. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she smiled.

"What story do you want to hear?"

"The Witch and the Two Wizards," Sierra responded with an equally disarming smile. Hermione had never told her daughter that her favorite bedtime story was actually based on real events, but figured that would come out in due time, when she was old enough. She could hear the water running in an adjacent bathroom and guessed her son was probably finishing his nighttime routine. She spotted him through the open door and marveled at how much he resembled Harry, even from the back.

"Forrest, love, do you want to hear a story?"

"I'm listening," the boy assured his mother. Hermione smiled and began:

"Once upon a time, there lived a very brilliant little girl. She had a happy childhood as a Muggle with two loving parents. Then, one day, she received a letter telling her she was a witch and inviting her to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The girl boarded the Hogwarts Express just a few weeks before her 12th birthday to go. On the train, she met two funny little boys. One boy had flaming red hair and deep blue eyes, and the other had dark black hair with piercing green eyes. The boy wizards did not like the witch at first. They thought she was bossy and a know-it-all. Then, that Halloween, the wizards said something really mean about the witch and she went into the girls' bathroom and cried. That night, a huge mountain troll got into the castle and tried to hurt the witch. The wizards rescued her. From that day on, the three became fast friends and over the years they had many adventures together. The years passed, and the three friends fell in love with each other. After they worked together to defeat a very dark wizard, the witch realized something strange: she loved both boys equally in her heart. She told the boys this and they decided to do something no trio had ever done before. They decided to marry. Simply put, they were tired of being in danger. So, they settled down, had a few kids. In a way, they traded one life adventure for another – and were better off for it."

There was a pause before Sierra asked, "Didn't they live happily ever after?"

"I did say they were better off," Hermione reminded her. She had yet to divulge the true end of the story, or that it was real. She turned to see her son leaning against the doorframe. A small smile, her smile, tugged at his lips. Although Forrest would never admit it, he did enjoy his mother's stories. The boy hopped into bed and grudgingly allowed his mother to tuck him in.

"You know," he confessed. "That part with the troll is always really cool. When I get to Hogwarts, I'll save someone from an even bigger troll." Hermione grinned down at him. "I bet you will, Munchkin. Good night."

She turned back to head for the door, only to find her daughter eyeing her with a curious expression on her face, as if trying to figure something out. Hermione took a deep breath. She could only guess what Sierra might be wondering about, and figured that maybe the time was right after all. Hermione beckoned Forrest over and both sat on Sierra's bed.

"I have another story to tell you both. I was going to wait until you were a bit older, but you'll probably need to know this before you go to Hogwarts yourselves. The Witch and the Two Wizards are real."

Sierra leaned forward. "I knew there was something more to the story! But who-?" Then, her eyes widened and she gasped. "You were the Witch!" Hermione nodded and grinned. "Did you really marry both of the wizards?"

"Yes, I did – and it was lovely. They were quite handsome, to tell you the truth. They were my best friends. We grew very loving toward each other." She pulled two pictures from her shirt pocket; ones she always kept with her. She held one out to her daughter. "Sierra, this is a picture of your daddy." Sierra stared at it with amazement. Hermione passed the other picture to her son. "Forrest, this is a picture of your daddy." Both kids stared at the photographs of Ron and Harry, their respective fathers, for a long moment. Sierra finally looked up.

"Mum, what happened to Daddy? And Forrest's Dad?"

"They died in a shipwreck, a long time ago."

"Was it when we were little, Mummy?" asked Forrest.

"No, honey. Your father knew about your existence – yours, too, Sierra – but they never saw either of you. They died about a month before you were born."

The children asked if they could keep the pictures, and Hermione agreed, on the promise that they took really good care of them. Forrest and Sierra climbed back into bed, and Hermione shut the door with a quick 'I love you.' Back in her room, Hermione stared at the picture of her, Harry and Ron on their wedding day and kissed it gently. Both of her boys were probably up there somewhere, smiling.

* * *

About two years later, Hermione guided her kids through Kings' Cross Station to the barrier between Platforms 9 and 10. After carefully checking for Muggles, the three rushed through it. Sierra and Forrest loved the sight of the Hogwarts Express, and Hermione had to admit that even after 20 years or so, it never got old for her, either. After helping to load their trunks onto the train, Hermione ran through all their supplies one more time. The whistle quickly sounded. Hermione pulled both of her kids into a hug and kissed them.

"See you at Christmas. I'm going to miss you."

"Bye, Mummy! I love you," said Sierra, and she hopped onto the train eagerly, but Forrest held back. After a moment of clear internal struggle, he turned to his mother.

"Mum? What if I can't measure up to who Dad was? People will always be comparing me to him. What if I can't be like him?"

Hermione stared at him. She had no idea her son had harbored these feelings, but, then again, they were only natural.

"Forrest Sirius Potter, you have to remember that you are your own person. Yes, you are a Potter, and your father's son – my God, I see him in you every day – but carrying yourself based on someone else's image because that's who you think people expect you to be is just wasting who you are. Be brave and be the person only _you_ can be. If you do that, you will make your father and I so proud."

Forrest digested her words for a moment and smiled. "Thanks, Mum." He gave her a fleeting hug, and leapt onto the train just before it began to pull out. Hermione walked alongside, and noticed lots of students staring at her. Sierra must have seen this too, for she demanded to know why everyone was looking.

"Don't let it worry you," Hermione told her. "It's me; I'm kind of famous."

Sierra and Forrest laughed. "Bye, Mum!" they yelled one last time. Hermione stopped with her hand still raised in farewell and felt a lump catch in her throat.

"Bye, my darlings," she got out. When the train was no longer in sight, she removed a photo of her boys from her wallet and smiled at it.

"C'mon, fellas. Let's go home." And with that, the Greatest Witch of Her Age swept through the barrier to the Muggle world.


End file.
